One More for the Road
by loveadubdub
Summary: And Rachel's hanging all over every guy there  including the gay ones .  Whatever.  She WOULD be the horny drunk girl.  Figures.


**ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD**

…

Who knew the Daddies Berry were such lushes?

Seriously, their cabinet is _stocked. _That either means they drink a _lot. _Or it means they _rarely _drink, and that's how they manage to keep it so full. Puck's going to go with option one because he likes those dudes, and it's totally the better choice. Plus, they probably _need _to knock a few back to deal with their daughter all day every day. God knows _he _would.

Her party's kind of awesome, though (thanks to him). It stops sucking after the liquor comes out, which isn't like a shock or anything because, you know, _liquor. _It's been like way too long since he's been shitfaced, and that probably goes for pretty much everyone here. There's nothing but lame parties after football season anyway, so whatever, this is fine. Empty house, lots of alcohol, and he doesn't like _hate _anyone here.

Plus, Brittany's stripping, so yeah.

That's not doing much to help his current train of thought, and really, he's mostly just thinking that he'd like to get his dick sucked. But the downside of this party is that there's like zero chance of that happening. Everyone's fucking hooked up with each other, and it sucks. The only person here who'd do it anyway is Santana, and she's got a "boyfriend." Plus, she's totally crying, which is like not a shock at all because she _always _fucking cries when she gets drunk. That's why it's way better to just get her high. High Santana will do _anything _(seriously, _anything),_ and that's the way he likes her best. But he doesn't have anything on him, and he's sure nobody else here has any drugs, either. Plus, Rachel'd probably flip her shit if somebody started smoking. So whatever. Santana's out.

And the other girls can all go to hell.

Lauren's just being a bitch, which is like so not as hot when he's wasted. Quinn's fucking psychotic ass is bringing up shit that just shouldn't be brought up. She's bitching at him about the _baby, _and they _never _talk about the baby. She always pretends that shit never happened, and he was beginning to think she just forgot altogether. Apparently not, though. She screams at him for like ten minutes straight until he finally tells her to _shut the fuck up, _and then she gets even pissier and goes off to talk shit about him (he's sure) with Tina and Mercedes.

And fucking Rachel... Good lord. She's hanging all over every guy at the party (including the gay ones), and whatever dude. She _would _be the horny drunk girl. Figures. It'd be hilarious if he didn't know she'd die before she'd do this shit sober. He can't tell if Finn's humoring her or if he's being a dick, but Rachel doesn't seem deterred either way. She just starts screaming that they're going to play Spin the Bottle. And whatever. Nobody actually plays that shit, but she obviously thinks they're in some kind of movie or something so it's not like it's surprising. What _is _surprising is the fact that everyone starts cheering like it's a good idea and fucking sits down in a circle to actually _play._

So he does, too, because what the hell else is he gonna do?

It's seriously dumb. Everyone here's already made out with everyone else anyway. It's like some kind of big incest pool. That's a fucked up thought. That's a _JD _thought. Good ole' Jack.

Rachel starts trying to swallow Kurt's boyfriend's tongue, and it's hilarious as shit. But also super fucked up. And Kurt looks like he wants to kill somebody or maybe himself. Finn doesn't look thrilled, but whatever because it's his own fucking fault. She's for real making out with this dude, not just a few seconds of kissing. Puck can't even hate on the dude- gay or not, Rachel's a good kisser, so anybody should be able to appreciate that.

And fuck that thought, too.

Next thing he knows, Gay Dude is up on Rachel's basement stage (seriously? WTF), and they're singing some 80s shit. The dude's singing to Rachel, and she's singing to _herself_. It's hilarious because that's just some classic Rachel shit right there, and that's kind of what makes her awesome. He doesn't know what the fuck she's wearing, but he likes it because there's only so much what-the-fuck one person should be able to put into an outfit. She like exceeds that limit by a thousand, and it's great. Plus, seriously, she _totally_ thinks this is a movie, and that's just like epic or something.

Quinn starts screaming at Sam before too long. Then she calls Santana a slut, and instead of kicking her ass, Santana just bursts into tears and starts yelling that she's _not _a slut (she is) and that she doesn't know why people have to judge her _all the fucking time. _It's funny, and he watches that shit with Mike, and they laugh together because those crazy bitches are _crazy. _And Rachel ups her own crazy meter (like that's fucking _possible) _when she goes over and tries to calm them both down. She must have had _way _too much to drink if she's trying to keep the peace between _Quinn and Santana. _She _hugs _Santana and tells her she's not a slut (yeah, right), and Santana sobs into the sleeve of that hideous/awesome dress Rachel's wearing and nods her head and thanks her like they're BFFs or something.

_So _fucked up.

He gets bored with the girl drama and starts play flip club with Mike, Brittany, Tina, Mercedes, and the gay dude who was trying to fuck Rachel. His name's Blaine, he knows it. Whatever. He's pretty cool, though, not all prissy and whiney like Kurt. And whatever, Puck likes Kurt, but he's such a _girl. _This dude is more like just one of the guys. Plus, he's super drunk and keeps telling dirty jokes, which is never a bad thing really. Puck's usually pretty good at this, but he keeps getting distracted by Britt and her pink bra, and if he wasn't so fucking hard up, it wouldn't be a big goddamn deal. But he hasn't been laid in like weeks, and he's starting to feel it. He's also starting to feel that he's totally drunk, and the fact that they have no beer and are playing with rum isn't really helping.

His fucking cup won't cooperate, and that's probably to do with the fact that he's seriously for real checking out Brittany's tits, but it's also to do with the fact that Tina is cracking up and about to piss herself laughing for no apparent reason. And then she actually falls down in the floor, and that makes _everyone _laugh. And it probably shouldn't be that funny, but they're drunk, and it totally is. Then Rachel shows up asking what they're playing and saying she wants to play. Tina says she's out and then runs away still laughing to go tackle Finn or something. Rachel takes that as her invitation to play, and Mike tells her what to do. She's really fucking terrible, too, but they're like six rounds into this shit, so they're all pretty fucked. Not to mention they've been drinking for hours anyway. They're gonna be sick as hell tomorrow, but nobody wants to bring that up.

They finally have a good round, and Rachel's so happy that she's jumping up and down until her arms land around his neck and she's forcing him to catch her. He laughs because she's so fucking happy over _flip cup, _and he kind of pats her head a little and steadies her on her feet. Then he quits the game because he's not getting himself into that shit.

It's fucked for real. But he's so fucking horny right now that he seriously cannot handle Rachel and all her handsy touchy-feely shit. He doesn't have a girlfriend to kick his ass, and he is way too drunk to pull some Finn shit and ward her off. That's why he's been avoiding her like crazy ever since she began drinking and started this shit. If she comes up hanging all over him, he'll probably do something really stupid because that's how drunk he is. And it's not like they're even good at _not _making out when they're both sober. It's fucked up, but it's true.

He goes upstairs to take a piss and seriously considers rubbing one out while he's in the bathroom. It's really pathetic, but he's not used to being this wasted and not having some chick to take care of shit. He should've invited more people to this party, but he barely got to have one at all so he wasn't going to push his luck. He could always leave and go hit up some Cheerios party or something, but that'd be really shitty considering this whole thing was his idea. But _fuck, _shit's starting to get painful.

He can't go back downstairs right now. He just needs a few minutes. He needs a break. So he starts wandering around and ends up in the living room. He's been here plenty of times before, but it still kind of amuses him to see what might as well be a Rachel Berry shrine on the mantle. He looks at it for a second and then goes and lays down on the couch to kind of make the room stop spinning. He thinks it's funny how the whole damn family is so weird, but it's like seriously no wonder Rachel is the way she is.

They're pretty well off, maybe not like totally _rich, _but they sure as hell don't struggle. They have really nice furniture, like this couch that's better than pretty much anything right at the moment. He could totally fall asleep here. Maybe he should. He can't go home like this because his mom'll kick his ass, and everyone else is probably going to end up crashing here anyway. So what if he beats them to the punch and gets the best spot? They can go fuck themselves.

He thinks he'll just close his eyes for a few minutes and then decide if he's staying or going, but he must drift off for a couple seconds or something because he doesn't even hear anyone coming upstairs or hear footsteps coming across the hardwood. It's not until he feels a dead weight fall onto his chest that he actually wakes up.

"Noah!" Rachel falls face first on top of him and just lays there like it's normal or something. "I thought you left me!"

"Naw, baby." He doesn't even open his eyes, just randomly pats her back. This is a dumb idea, not making her get up, but he's too tired to do anything about it.

"Don't go to sleep," she tells him, like she can read his mind or something.

"It's late."

"No, it's not." She giggles, and he feels her mouth right by his neck. "You're being lame."

He laughs, mostly because Rachel Berry just called him lame. He feels her smile again, and he opens his eyes when she pushes herself up a little bit and looks down at him.

"This is the best party _ever, _isn't it?"

"Yep." It's not even close, but he'll humor her.

Rachel's got one of those huge grins, and he kind of hates himself for thinking it's so damn cute. But fuck. She's cute. Not like it's news.

"Did you hear me sing?" she asks brightly, and he nods and hmms an affirmative. "Did you like it?"

He nods again. "Yeah, it was great," he mumbles, still fighting sleep.

"Blaine is great. We should kidnap him!"

He kind of smiles at that because Rachel _would _fucking steal somebody and hold them hostage if she thought it might help her win something. "That's like a felony, and I'm still on probation."

She giggles again and drops her head back down to his shoulder. His eyes are closed again, but he feels her playing with the hem of his shirt. He's way too drunk to think about what that means right now. "Your juvenile delinquency was useful today. You broke into my dads' liquor cabinet. That's terrible." She giggles again, and it's mostly just funny because there wasn't even a lock on the thing. Clearly, her parents know their kid's too lame to do anything halfway normal like steal their alcohol. Or at least that's what they assume.

Rachel's kissing him before he even has time to realize what's happening.

She's got their mouths pressed together, and her fingers are still playing with the bottom of his shirt. And it's freaking stupid how awesome it is. He knows he's just horny, but it's not like he hates making out with her or anything. Shit, he wouldn't do it so often if he didn't _like _it. And fuck, yeah, he does it too much, and that's kind of a problem. So that's why he only kisses her back for a couple of seconds before he shakes his head and pushes at her shoulders.

They both sit up, and she doesn't even look like she notices that he's just dissed her ass. And he hasn't really, but most chicks would take it like that. Rachel, though, just smiles again and pushes some hair away from her face. She's totally straddling him now, which isn't helping things, but he does his best to ignore that.

"We need to go back downstairs." He wonders if he's slurring because that's how drunk he feels, and the room is totally back to going in circles. Fucking spins.

"I'm like the worst hostess ever." She rolls her eyes. "But let's just make out."

He laughs. For real laughs. Because she's dead-ass serious.

"You're super drunk," he tells her, and he ignores the fact that he's drunk as shit, too. "You need to eat." He pushes her again until he's able to stand up, and the whole fucking room seems to tilt. He's better off than Rachel, though, and she practically falls down the second he's got her on two feet. "Watch it, babe..." He grabs her waist and straightens her back up. She just giggles.

He takes her to the kitchen and makes her a sandwich with what's allegedly some kind of nasty looking peanut butter. It doesn't even _smell _like peanut butter, but she eats it like it's the best thing ever, and then she downs the bottle of water he shoves at her.

"I've never been drunk before," she announces, screwing the lid tightly back onto the bottle before she throws it in the general direction of the trash can (it lands somewhere on the floor to the right).

"No shit." That's only the most obvious thing in the world- she definitely doesn't get that he's being sarcastic.

"Nope." She shakes her head. "It's fun."

"Until tomorrow."

She smiles and puts a finger to his lip like that's gonna shut him up or something. "Shhhh..."

"And you know you're gonna have to clean all this shit up, too, right?" He wonders if she realizes that her basement's fucking _trashed._

"Yeah, before my dads get home! Oh, my god, if I get caught, I'm gonna be in so much trouble..." Her voice trails, and she looks dazed for like a mini-second, but then she's back to giggling. "I never get in trouble!"

"Because you don't ever do shit." He bends down to pick up her water bottle and tries not to notice the room rocking.

"I've never even been grounded."

"I'm grounded right now."

Rachel's eyes go huge, and she looks like she's witnessing some huge scandal or something. "Noah! You're gonna get in so much trouble!"

And now it's his turn to laugh because what the fuck? This chick must not realize he spends like 50 weeks of the year grounded. He still does whatever the fuck he wants.

"It's cool." He shrugs. "I got this."

"I wish you'd sing to me." She says it out of nowhere, and then she grabs both his hands. It's crazy how little her fingers are. It's even more fucked up that he's noticing shit like that when she's talking out of her ass. "You should sing to me."

He looks at her, and she's staring up at him with this crazy look on her face. He doesn't even know what the hell she's talking about, so he just humors her. "Yeah, I will."

"Right now."

"No, not now." He shakes his head, and she gets some stupid little girl pout on her face. "No guitar."

She seems to take that as a valid excuse because she nods and swings their hands back and forth between them. "I'm hot."

She's talking about the temperature, not her looks. He could agree either way. He wants to tell her that fuck yeah, she's hot, but he just says, "Because you have fifty pounds of dress on. What the fuck is that anyway?"

She glances down at her dress and then back up, smiling all big again. "Inspiration."

He doesn't know what the hell she's talking about, so he just ignores it. "Alcohol makes you hot."

"Alcohol makes _you _hot."

And fuck. Yes, she went there. He knows he should find it amusing and let his cocky side take over and agree, but she is _so _out of her head right now. He's drunk, but he's not _that _drunk. "You're out of control."

"I told you I want to make out." She looks like she might start throwing a temper tantrum or some shit, and he wouldn't even be surprised. Instead, though, she just stares at him expectantly, and when he doesn't do what she wants, she obviously decides to take matters into her own hands. Literally. She grabs his face and pulls him into a kiss.

And okay, yeah, he's kissed her more than a few times. It's always pretty awesome. She's a good kisser- she's like sneaky controlling, and it's kind of hot. So it's really not his fault that he kisses her back. Or that she ends up pinned between him and the kitchen counter.

He's already been like half-hard all night just because he's been thinking about sex and also about the fact that there's like zero chance of him actually getting laid. So really, he can't be blamed for the fact that he gives in and humors her for a little while with the making out shit. She's got her mouth open and her tongue against the back of her teeth. And she's still holding his face like his head might fall off or something. He wants to grab her waist or something, but he knows better. He keeps his hands planted firmly on the counter on either side of her. He's kissing her, but he's not going to touch her. He doesn't need to do something _really _stupid.

It doesn't matter anyway because somebody's running up the stairs, and then he hears, "Rachel! Tina puked on your stereo!" and it's all pretty much shot to hell.

Rachel takes off running back downstairs after Mercedes. And Puck just stays in the kitchen because he's totally supposed to be taking a nap right now anyway. Fucking Rachel. He gets his own bottle of water out of the fridge and wonders how long it's going to take them to clean all that shit up downstairs and if he's going to be expected to help. Probably. Since this whole thing was his idea and everything. Fuck, he's tired, though.

He almost goes back downstairs because maybe he can tell everyone to fuck off, and the sooner they get the hell out, the sooner _he_ can. But somebody else is coming up the stairs, and he hears the crying before he sees her. Fucking Santana. She sees him and glares at him like he did something to her or some shit. Whatever, he didn't do anything to her, and she better not come up here talking some shit because he's not in the mood.

"Quinn is a _bitch!" _

Of course it's about Quinn. What else would it be about?

"Dude, I don't give a fuck," he says flatly because whatever. He's not going there with this crap.

Santana's got tears streaming down her face, and her mascara's a fucking mess. She looks like shit run over twice or something.

"How could you ever even _like _her?"

"Santana... Just shut up, okay?"

That just makes her cry more, and he rolls his eyes because it's not his place to be dealing with this shit. He's dealt with more Santana drama than any one person should ever have to.

"You're such an asshole!"

"Go cry to your boyfriend or something. I don't give a shit."

"I can't!" she screams hysterically. "He's in love with that slut bitch whore skank!"

It's funny because Santana would totally be the epitome of slut bitch whore skank if that was like a real thing or something. He probably shouldn't laugh, but he does, and Santana looks like she wants to cut his balls off.

"Oh, go suck a dick, you prick!"

"You suck mine first." He raises his eyebrows at her, and it's totally a challenge. She glares at him, but then she crosses her arms.

"Where are the fucking bedrooms in this freak-house?"

He smiles because maybe she's not high, but she's pissed off enough and whiney enough that she'll totally be down for a little revenge. And he's totally taking advantage of a drunk girl, but it's Santana so who gives a fuck. He starts toward the main house stairs, and she's following him even though she's pissed off and still looks like she wants to fucking murder someone. But she's still crying, too, so he'll just have to like not look at her at all because she looks so shitty right now.

It doesn't even matter, though, because more footsteps are coming up the stairs, and he's really surprised Rachel can even run that fast as drunk as she is. She nearly collides with them and then breaks down into giggles.

"Tina threw up three times!" And she's laughing like that's funny and not fucking disgusting.

"That's sick." He shakes his head, and then Santana breaks down and cries even harder. It's fucking ridiculous, and he wants to tell her to grow a damn pair and get the fuck over it. But Rachel looks all concerned and puts an arm over her shoulder.

"She's okay," she promises because clearly she thinks Santana's like concerned about Tina or some shit. Santana probably doesn't even know which one Tina _is. _

"Quinn is such a slut," Santana like literally _weeps _the words, and Rachel just frowns and then full-out hugs her. It's like the Twilight Zone or some shit.

"She took my boyfriend." It's like they're fucking _commiserating _or some shit, and it's scary as hell because Rachel and Santana should never have anything to commiserate _about. _But they're hugging each other, and Santana's sobbing into Rachel's shoulder as Rachel pats her hair.

And all chances of him getting his dick sucked are totally out the fucking window.

Fucking girls.

"So," he breaks up the slumber party. "You ready to shut this shit down?"

"Nooooo!" Rachel pulls back from Santana and shakes her head really fast. "We're just starting to have fun!"

It's totally like 3AM, and she has no fucking clue. Or maybe she does and she just thinks she's some kind of badass party girl all of a sudden.

Santana breaks in with her own vow of, "I'm going to find my boyfriend." And it sounds so fucking stupid coming out of her mouth, but whatever. She disappears back into the kitchen to head down to the basement, and Puck just looks at Rachel and shakes his head.

"You totally cock-blocked me."

"She has a boyfriend!"

He just shrugs, and she giggles again because that's apparently the only thing she knows how to do. It's kind of obvious that he doesn't really give a shit about girls and their supposed boyfriends. She should know that shit as well as anyone. It's not really funny.

"And she's _drunk, _Noah."

He nods. "Yep. What's your point?"

"I'm drunk, too." She smiles at him, and he knows she totally thinks that shit's supposed to be seductive or something. It's not, but it's fucking cute.

"You sure are," he tells her, nodding for emphasis. He puts one hand on her shoulder and sort of steers her back into the kitchen. "And drunk girls need plenty of sleep, so we need to shut this down."

"You can come up and sleep with me."

She probably literally means _sleep. _Or maybe she doesn't. Fuck it, either way it ain't happening. He's not going there. Especially not when she's looking all cute and like she totally wants to take his pants off. Santana's one thing- Rachel's a totally different thing.

"Maybe," he tells her because he's gonna appease her either way. He's not a jackass like some other people. "First we gotta make sure everyone else gets home okay."

"Finn's gonna drive."

Whatever. He knows what Finn's "designated driving" means. It means whoever can fit into the car for one trip, and anyone else is just SOL. But none of them are going to drive drunk or anything moronic like that. Puck'll just make them all go to sleep in the basement. He's still got dibs on the couch, and fuck them if somebody thinks they're gonna steal it.

Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck, and he'd just let everyone take care of their own shit and find their own way home and their own place to sleep. But he actually like gives a shit about these assholes, so it kind of sucks. He doesn't know why he feels responsible for this kind of shit, but he's got to at least make sure everyone knows they're not gonna go out and kill themselves tonight.

He nods and keeps steering her toward the stairs and doesn't actually do anything to stop her when she grabs him and kisses him again. He _should. _But he doesn't. He just smiles at her, and she mirrors it. Then she takes his hand and pulls him back down the stairs to the party. He thinks she's going to tell everyone to pack it in, but she just runs toward the stage and grabs a microphone.

"Who wants to sing with me?" and like five different people yell back in response.

Fuck it. He's not gonna get his dick sucked, and he's not gonna get to sleep. Instead, he just grabs the closest bottle of liquor he can reach and turns it up. Might as well enjoy himself. He uses his phone to film Rachel and Santana singing a duet, smiling and laughing and holding hands like they're best friends forever.

He's definitely putting that shit on YouTube.

…


End file.
